


A New York Fairy Tale

by Lula_Landry



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Boss/Employee Relationship, Co-workers, Dominant Ben Solo, Dominant Kylo Ren, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22901467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lula_Landry/pseuds/Lula_Landry
Summary: Ben Solo is a titan of industry who discovers his employee Rae is far more talented than anyone has given her credit for. Out of a sense of gratitude, he decides to play fairy godfather before a work gala and hijinks ensue! A Cinderella, Little Red Riding Hood and Beauty & the Beast modern day mash up.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 26
Kudos: 165





	1. Cinderella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

Ben Solo was a six-foot six-inch, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound tyrant of industry. If he was a character in a fairy tale, he would have been less knight in shining armour and more of an ogre who controlled a very large and well-travelled bridge.

Solo owned First Order Communications, a multi-billion dollar international publishing conglomerate headquartered in New York’s financial district, situated amongst the hustle and bustle of Wall Street’s finest.

But this is not his tale.

From the luxuriously appointed penthouse atop his steel and glass skyscraper, Solo ruled an empire of companies stretching from the United States to Pacific Asia. He owned dozens of newspapers and magazines, as well as a controlling stake in that venerable New York publishing house Reed and Skywalker.

The jewel in Solo’s crown, however, was the tabloid Daily Sun, Britain’s third largest selling national newspaper. Amongst local journalists it was known as the Daily Solo, because it was not uncommon for the paper to publish two stories in a single day about Solo’s business and philanthropic activities.

And yet it was this highly favoured pet that turned into a poisoned apple.

A defamation lawsuit was filed against the Daily Sun seeking one-hundred million pounds in damages. The plaintiff was a sultry platinum blonde pop star who was better known for her appearances on reality television shows. The complaint carried the names of five attorneys from two law firms and alleged the publication of twenty-three false and defamatory articles online or in print.

The Daily Sun had insinuated Miss Plastic Fantastic was carrying out an affair with her best friend, yet another lightweight celebrity with fish lips and inflatable breasts. Between the two women, they had seven children, three ex-husbands, one current husband and one boy toy. Thus, the story had grown at the rate of a forest fire during a drought and been picked up by many more publications.

The pop star went from B-list celebrity to media fodder in a matter of hours. She lost roles in television and her latest album tanked. She was determined to lay the blame of her failed career on Solo’s newspaper.

The trial was to begin in a week and the venerable Mr Solo was in a towering rage. Not that this was unusual. More troubling was that he’d been angry enough to descend from his tower on high to the eighteenth floor, where the Sentinel’s research and fact checking department was housed.

Rae Jackson watched wide-eyed as the big male stormed past her desk into her manager’s office. Not many were privy to a glimpse of the great man himself.

During the brief meeting, the roar of Solo’s voice could be heard across the floor, transfixing the hundred or so researchers he employed. When the opaque glass office door bounced open again, every worker there feverishly returned to their assigned tasks. Except for Rae.

She was a unique young woman, blessed with a genius IQ and an analytical mind. By the time she was eighteen she had read French classics at Oxford and obtained a post-graduate degree in English literature from Harvard. More than anything else, Rae wanted to be an editor. The editor, in fact; the one who decided which manuscripts lived and which ones were burned in a pyre, never to see the light of day.

Rae had a passion for the modern novel, and while unconvinced of her own ability to write a book, she was certain she could recognise talent in others. So here she was, in her first year at First Order, hoping to work her way up the corporate ladder and into the company’s publishing arm.

She shamelessly eavesdropped on the conversation between her manager and their boss as the men walked back toward shining bronze elevator doors. Thus, she heard something that made her mind spark.

“That talentless tart is accusing us of using unreliable and biased sources! Do you understand what that means?” Solo was very nearly frothing at the mouth, his shirt buttons straining to contain the expanding muscles of his chest.

“If it’s proved, it could be said we were acting with knowledge of falsity and a reckless disregard for the truth,” a short, dapper blonde man murmured, nearly invisible in his neatness.

A lawyer, Rae assumed. She’d seen his kind before, paid too much for doing too little.

Solo ignored the interruption. “We need that damn video. It has to be somewhere in records.”

Rae’s manager looked frantic, his bushy white hair like froth on his round head. “We’ve had five researchers combing through the archives for the past month, sir. They’ve viewed thousands of hours of footage, but none involving the lady in question.”

Rae stood up, startling colleagues seated on either side of her. Her memory palace floated up a nugget of gold that shimmered in the air like a whispered promise.

Her cool mind informed her that if she acted on the information, she would either win herself a promotion or find herself packing up her few effects in a cardboard box before the day was out.

But that was not why Rae did what she did. For her, knowledge was to be shared. Rae did not understand politics or opportunism. She wasn’t looking for a free ride. She simply wished to be helpful.

“Excuse me.”

The three men turned to look at her with varying degrees of surprise.

“Who are you?” Solo barked.

Her manager rushed to answer in an attempt to prevent one of his underlings from embarrassing him. “She’s new to the company, Mr Solo. A junior researcher.”

Solo frowned, deep amber eyes assessing Rae from head to toe. Rae wondered what he saw. Her freckled skin and incongruously red hair? The nondescript office wear that made her appear even more of a child? Her sensible beige ballet shoes? She watched his curiosity shift to irritation as he mentally dismissed her.

The elevator doors dinged and slid open. Solo took a step forward.

“I think I can help.”

Solo turned around glaring, and for the first time Rae took him in piece by piece. He was an intimidating man.

Thick hair so dark its highlights shone blue, expertly swept back from his forehead with some kind of pomade. Ferocious eyes like scudding clouds gilded by a setting sun. Cheekbones as sharp as blades and a mouth that should have been mean but was instead full, mobile and sensual.

He was as pale as marble, as if he spent his weekends trapped behind a desk, which was probably the truth. He was so tall her head barely came up to the middle of his chest. Thick, burly shoulders and arms, lean hips and big, muscled thighs were framed by a custom-made three-piece suit in pinstriped charcoal grey.

“Who are you?” he repeated, his voice no quieter now than when he’d been shouting at her manager.

Rae was uncowed by Solo’s show of temper. She’d grown up amongst arrogant men- her foster father, for example, owned a chain of car dealerships and thought that entitled him to everything from an unethical mark-up to the ass of any woman who had the misfortune of walking too close to him. She knew the fury of a frustrated male.

Which was why she got straight to the point. “I’m Rae Jackson and I think I know where your video file might be.”

Solo blinked. “Where is it?”

“The basement level of this building has storage facilities. It holds documents considered too important to discard in fire proof filing cabinets. One of those cabinets has reels of film, old photo negatives and dozens of USB drives.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” her manager snapped. “Why would it be there?”

Rae responded to his question though she did not take her eyes off Solo. “If you’d researched the matter, you would have seen that the Daily Sun obtained the story after a video was sent to them in the mail of two women canoodling at a Parisian cafe. It was a physical file, not an electronic one.”

There was a long silence.

Typically, Solo was the first one to respond. “I want those five researchers of yours looking thought the contents of the cabinet,” he ordered.

“The basement is vast, Mr Solo,” Rae’s manager protested. “Even if we were to believe the girl that such a container exists, my people would still have to locate it.”

“Western wall, second last filing cabinet at the back,” Rae coolly interrupted.

The senior man turned to her, an unbecoming flush climbing his neck.

“And you can trust me. I was in the basement doing filing for a month before I received a desk on this floor.”

Solo snapped his thick fingers. Even they appeared muscular. “Go,” he barked at her manager. The other man nodded stiffly and went to do as asked. “And you,” he said, looking at his lawyer, “tell your team we may have our proof after all.”

The blonde man took advantage of the waiting elevator, disappearing to the forty-seventh level where the company’s legal team was kept.

Ben Solo turned to face Rae. “How did you know such a thing?”

Suddenly alone with him, Rae felt her poise slip. She had shared information, and there was nothing left for her to do.

Still, she should answer his question.

“Like I said, I was sent to the basement to sort files.”

“No,” Solo drawled, his mesmerising honeyed eyes narrowing, “that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Rae hesitated. “I have an eidetic memory.”

She waited for the traditional response of puzzlement or astonishment, but there was none forthcoming. Rae appreciated the fact her boss didn’t need her to explain the term. Solo had many quirks, but stupidity was not amongst them.

She’d been born with the ability to recall images from memory vividly after only an instance of exposure. She’d used it to her advantage, becoming the best student in her class, but it had also left her withdrawn and antisocial. She remembered being called a witch for her uncanny ability to recite myriad facts. Ambition forced her to interact with the world, but she was still reluctant to mix with others.

Solo slapped a button, calling for another elevator, and Rae breathed an internal sigh of relief. He was leaving and she could return to her desk.

“Come with me,” he said as polished doors once more slid open.

Rae looked up in dismay, properly meeting his gaze for the first time. “Sir?”

His mouth quirked into a grudging smile at her consternation. “You heard me.”

Heart pounding in her chest, Rae stepped into the elevator with Solo. He didn’t speak, all but ignoring her for the moment. They climbed the floors, steadily approaching the seventieth level which was dedicated solely to Solo’s office. Her heart throbbed when they went past it, stopping instead on the seventy-first floor. Solo’s apartment.

They stepped into a foyer of glistening cream and emerald marble, the chandelier that lit the entrance composed of jet crystals.

At last, Solo spoke, low and husky. “Why don’t I know about you?”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. “I’m new to the Sentinel,” she said hesitantly.

“Is no one aware of your giftings?”

Rae shrugged, nonplussed. What did it matter?

As if he’d heard her thoughts, Solo snapped, “I could have put you to better use, though I suppose I should be grateful you were stuck in the basement.”

He walked through an arched entryway into the next room and she followed behind more slowly.

“If your information pans out- and I think it will- you’ll have saved me a hundred million dollars. What do you want in return, Rae?”

Rae’s pulse skittered. “Nothing.”

Solo frowned. “Don’t be silly, girl. I should arrange a suitable thank you. A banquet. A human sacrifice. A diamond. Come. Sit, eat and drink.”

A hand as heavy as a bear paw rested on the back of her neck. Solo impatiently pulled Rae into the living room. Everything was oversized to accommodate Solo’s big, broad frame: deep chairs and couches of hand tooled burgundy leather, a thick gold carpet, large ottomans and broad, low tables covered with fresh flowers and expensive trinkets given to him by other rich men.

Solo forced Rae into a chair as if he were about to interrogate her. Which she suspected he was. He threw back his head and roared a name.

A terrified maid entered the room, her eyes slightly averted.

Solo walked over to a polished cherry wood bar and pulled out two bottles of champagne, slamming the refrigerator door shut with his knee. “Take these,” he commanded, holding the bottles by the neck as if he were strangling them. “Remove the corks, bury them in ice. Bring food. Mountains of food. Caviar, smoked salmon, and don’t forget strawberries. Big bloody strawberries. Big like a teenage girl’s tits.”

Rae had the impression she was supposed to be offended since his remarkable amber gaze slid to her delicate face for a moment, gauging her reaction.

Solo fell into the corner of a couch and put his feet up on an ottoman. He removed his tie, twirled it into a ball and tossed it over his shoulder onto the floor. He wore a red silk shirt with black braces. The gold cuff links were nearly as big as the face of his solid gold Rolex.

The maid came back into the room, deposited food and fled. Solo poured champagne into flutes the size of beer glasses. He picked up a plum sized strawberry, dipped it into the sparkling drink and devoured it whole.

Rae suddenly felt like she was trapped in an enchanted kingdom. Everything was too big: the glasses, the strawberries, the slab of smoked salmon, the giant flat screen television silently playing an American financial news network… Solo and his ludicrous, booming baritone voice.

“Don’t pretend to be a lady, Rae,” he snapped. “Eat!”

Solo plunged a toast point into a bowl of caviar and she witnessed three hundred dollars of beluga vanish down his throat. Rae sat with her legs crossed, watching the bubbles rise in her champagne.

“Can you think of nothing you want from me?” Solo asked, genuinely curious.

Rae flushed, suspecting she was behaving oddly in this situation, making choices other people wouldn’t. She detested feeling like a square peg in a round hole, but at the same time didn’t know how else to act.

She liked being herself. She just wished others would accept who she was.

“No, sir. Not really.” She forced herself to meet his blue gaze and had trouble doing so. He didn’t speak and she felt obligated to explain herself. “I’m here because I have great respect for the Sentinel and its business holdings. I want to be in publishing and I’m willing to work my way up the ladder.”

Solo chewed on another strawberry with bloody concentration. “I could kick start your career by promoting you.”

Rae bit her lip. “I don’t want that. I’ll never learn what I need to know about being an editor if I don’t have ground level experience. My brain will only get me so far; I need practice as well.”

Solo’s arched black brows lifted in astonishment. “You’re a unique young woman, Rae.”

The pink blush reappeared on her cheeks. “Thank you,” she mumbled, unsure if the word he’d used was meant to be a compliment.

He leaned back in his chair. “I find your attitude refreshing.”

“What attitude is that?”

He grinned unexpectedly and the expression made him look ten years younger. “If I ordered my staff to jump, they’d do it and thank me for the suggestion later. But they wouldn’t do it out of loyalty, or respect. Or love. They’d do it because they’d be afraid not to. Fear is an emotion I deal with all the time.”

“Do you want me to be afraid of you?”

“You’re not, are you?” It wasn’t a question.

Rae wished devoutly she’d never spoken to Ben Solo. This was an abominable conversation. He radiated enough animal magnetism to make her skin prickle.

He changed the subject abruptly. “Are you coming to the gala tonight?”

Worse and worse. Rae shook her head.

“Why not?” Solo demanded, looking affronted.

Rae had heard all about First Order’s big bash. Every employee was invited, from the board of directors to the lowliest janitor. Every year Solo hired a row of interconnected warehouses by the docks and had a team of decorators turn them into stupendous ballrooms. Food and drink flowed all night, and it was considered the event of the season. Her colleagues had been talking non-stop about it the past two weeks.

“I- I don’t have a dress,” Rae hedged. 

She didn’t want to tell him the truth lest she appear even odder than before. She simply didn’t want to go. Rae could barely cope talking to one person; an entire crowd had a mortifying effect on her.

“No dress?” Solo growled. “Then that’s what I’ll do for you.”

“Excuse me?”

Solo did not answer, reaching for his mobile phone. His conversation was brief. “Would you come to the living room?” he asked the person on the other end of the line.

He returned to devouring strawberries and they sat in silence that was contented on his part and tense on hers.

Minutes later Rae heard the click of high heels, her only warning before the arrival of an exquisite blonde. The newcomer had shining honey hair that lay in perfect waves to her shoulders, her eyes the blue of a summer sky. Her slender form was superbly highlighted in a wraparound dress of black and ruby red print, her feet strapped into black patent leather stilettos.

She wore an excess of make-up but it was professionally applied, her rosebud mouth the red of coral and her light lashes thickened with mascara. Her nails were two inches long, painted a sparkling pink, her toe nails the same pink without silver flecks.

She was exactly the kind of female who made Rae feel completely inadequate.

The blonde approached Solo, bent over gracefully and dropped a languid kiss on his cheek. “What is it, Ben? It’s almost time I started getting ready for tonight’s party.”

Rae sank further into the couch, wishing she wasn’t there. She would have liked to be that casual with Solo instead of feeling all tied up in knots. She should have known he had a girlfriend or two hovering about.

Those sharp pink nails stroked Solo’s broad, bulky shoulder and Rae felt her heart twist. She examined her reaction in surprise. Was she jealous? Surely not. Rae couldn’t think of anyone more inappropriate with whom to become besotted than her boss.

“I’m glad I caught you,” Solo said, wiping his fingers with a linen napkin and throwing it down onto the table. It landed on the salmon. “I need a favour.” He stood up and pointed at Rae.

The blonde finally noticed her and Rae scrambled to her feet as well, abashed.

“Hello, who are you?” the other girl asked cheerfully.

“This is Rae,” Solo said. “She works at First Order and has done the company a great favour. I want to buy her a dress for tonight.”

“Oh, fabulous!” the blonde exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight. “I love playing fairy godmother.”

“Good, that’s settled then.”

“No, it’s not,” Rae gasped. “Mr Solo, you don’t have to do this.”

“I do what I want, Rae,” Solo snapped.

The blonde burst out laughing. “Good luck changing his mind, hon. My name is Kaydel by the way,” she introduced herself.

“Take you prize,” Solo said as if Kaydel hadn’t spoken, “and stop thinking you have a choice.”

“Don’t mind him, Rae. Most days he’s like a bear with a sore head and used to getting his own way.” Solo glared at Kaydel but she ignored him. “Honestly, I’d love to do this for you. Please, would you let me?”

Kaydel’s sweetness comforted Rae somewhat. She looked at Solo and noted the jut of his granite jaw. Rae realised she wasn’t going to get away without soothing whatever feeling of indebtedness she’d provoked in her employer.

“Alright,” she said at last, adding grudgingly, “Thank you, Mr Solo.”

He gave her another quick smile, this one wicked. “I don’t think you mean that, little red, but your concession will do.”

Rae tried to suppress a wave of irritation at Solo’s arrogant pronouncement but failed miserably.

All she had to do was find a dress and attend a party. Then she and Ben Solo need never speak again.


	2. Little Red Riding Hood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rae enters the forest in her new dress...

Kaydel organised a car in minutes and ordered the driver to take them to Barney’s on Madison Avenue. Rae had never been to the department store, but Kaydel was very comfortable within its walls.

Solo must be a generous boyfriend.

By the time she was ready, Rae had seen half a dozen saleswomen. The path to beauty was not easy. They tended to her hair and cosmetics, bringing her lingerie so delicate it could have been made from cobwebs and high heels that sparkled in the light. Kaydel chose a dress for her and Rae knew it was the right one because she actually gasped when she saw herself in it.

The poison green silk was as soft as butter, shimmering like a night sky filled with a million stars. The fabric cupped her breasts, showcasing creamy mounds and leaving bare her neck and slender shoulders. Her waist looked tiny, her hips inviting, the shining silk clinging to slim thighs and pooling at her feet.

Rae was excruciatingly self-conscious in the garment. She’d never noticed how inconvenient her breasts and hips could be. She wished for a shawl to throw over herself, but Kaydel vetoed that idea.

Rae’s hair was piled atop her head in glossy crimson curls, her shining hazel eyes startling behind feathered kohl lashes, her bee stung lips covered in cherry balm. Her cheeks were blush pink, her golden pallor as delicate as porcelain.

“You look amazing,” Kaydel sighed as the car arrived to take them to the docks. The blonde was gorgeous in hot pink satin, her golden hair a corona around her pretty head.

“I feel like a fraud,” Rae said, gazing anxious down at her own décolletage.

“Oh, why?” Kaydel asked, blue eyes serene.

Once more, Rae wished she had the other girl’s confidence. “I’m not a glamazon,” she said abruptly.

“It’s just clothes,” Kaydel murmured, tipping her head back and closing her eyes. “Relax and enjoy yourself, Rae. You won’t turn into a pumpkin.”

Rae looked out the car window, growing increasingly anxious with every minute that ticked by. They arrived at their destination twenty minutes later. The hangars could be seen from afar, decked out for the gala and glowing with lights.

Rae was ready to vanish into a shadowed corner of the ballroom, but Kaydel grabbed her hand and dragged her through the crowd. The cool blonde’s manner ensured people melted out of their way.

The hanger was transformed by thin white silk sheets covered with twinkling lights. There were silver brocade fainting couches to sit on and five foot crystal vases filled with bouquets of white feathers. Waiters dressed all in white walked around carrying trays of drink and food. It was a warm night, and warmer still amongst the press of a thousand bodies.

“Kaydel, where are we going?” Rae asked impatiently after dodging yet another inebriated colleague.

“Why, to Ben of course,” she tinkled, continuing to pull Rae through the crowd. “Prince Charming awaits.”

The man himself stood at the far end of the expansive room surrounded by a fawning crowd, his hand wrapped around a normal sized wine glass so that it looked like a child’s toy. Solo was dressed in a suit of dark grey with a purple check, his shirt silver and his tie shiny like spilled black ink. He really was an imposing figure, his height and breadth dwarfing most men. He looked bored.

“Here we are!” Kaydel declared, pushing Rae toward him.

The redhead stumbled in her high heels and she put out her hands to clutch at the nearest thing to her. It ended up being Solo. Rae found her face buried in his shirtfront, a part of her beguiled by the warm muscle beneath even as her breath caught in embarrassment.

She tried to straighten up quickly, her face scarlet with mortification, her hands still holding on to the lapels of his jacket. Rae expected to see a mocking grin from that sensual mouth, but he was watching her with an intensity that made her shiver.

“I- I’m so sorry, Mr Solo,” she gasped, forcibly letting go and praying her legs would work.

He threw back the rest of his drink, handed the glass to a passing waiter and wrapped a big hand around her waist. Rae found herself shepherded up a wrought iron spiral staircase, a flimsy affair that had only been put in place so they could reach a landing of hammered planks. The workmen must have created the raised platform so decorators could hang lights and fabric. Solo had her pressed against the railing and still he hadn’t spoken a word.

Rae wondered what Kaydel thought of her boyfriend spiriting away another girl. She quite liked the blonde, even if they had nothing in common. Rae didn’t like to think she was betraying Kaydel’s trust.

“Why are we here, Mr Solo?” Rae asked, feeling a little giddy as she looked out over the seething mass of people. She hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast.

“To talk in peace,” he said reasonably.

Rae tried to find a point of contention but couldn’t. “Thank you for the dress,” she said politely.

“You look like a cupcake,” he told her, his hot gaze trailing from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.

Rae blushed scarlet. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”

“Oh, it is,” he said, long fingers sliding down her slim back to small buttocks.

Rae twisted in his grasp, hazel eyes startled. He touched her as if she were his. She told herself she should be offended but she’d enjoyed it. No man had laid hands on her quite like that. With desire.

“The dress is like runny green icing all over your smooth little body.”

She didn’t know what to say. “You look nice too, Mr Solo.”

He burst out laughing and she went taut with embarrassment. She never knew how to talk to men.

“I pride myself on an active and diverse sex life, Rae, but I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

Rae blinked at him.

“I’ve had three women in the last three weeks. There was a German model who enjoyed the rough stuff, so I spanked her and was unconcerned about her satisfaction. Then I met a Japanese stewardess with skin like gold. To her I gave many orgasms and a diamond bracelet. Finally, there was a waitress at my favourite restaurant. She reminded me of my high school sweetheart. We made love all night and I was sad to see her go.”

Rae swallowed hard, her throat as dry as sand. Was this what passed for sophisticated conversation? Solo’s words made her feel strangely hot. Was he trying to shock her? She forced herself to speak. “Will you meet her again- the waitress?”

“Why should I? She was nothing more than a shadow from my past.”

“And me? What am I?”

“You’re my future.”

Rae stiffened where she stood, pulse racing, lips trembling. Solo watched her with lazy calculation, a lion playing with a field mouse.

“Don’t say such things, Mr Solo.”

“Ben,” he said coolly.

She shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly.”

“I’m just a man, little red.”

The endearment filled her mind like a soft roar. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” he agreed. “But still, call me Ben. It will make you feel better with what comes next.”

She frowned. “You talk in riddles.”

He moved quickly, gripping her by the hips, turning her around so she faced the steel railing. “I want to populate your mind with memories of me, Rae.” His fingers dug into the silk of her dress, drawing the fabric up, revealing slim legs and elastic thighs encased in sheer stockings. “Let your eidetic memory memorise me.”

“Don’t, Mr Solo,” she said, intending to sound annoyed except the word came out a low moan.

“Ben,” he murmured, undoing the clasp of her lace garter belt, sliding sheer silk down her legs.

“Please,” she whimpered. “Ben, please.” Obediently stepping out of sparkling golden heels and stockings at his touch.

He smirked, enjoying the sound of his name on her sweet tongue. “Relax, little girl,” he murmured.

“What about Kaydel?” she asked breathlessly.

His hands paused. “What about Kaydel?”

“Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

He leaned forward, dark hair tickling the backs of her thighs. “She’s my sister, silly baby.”

The surge of joy that went through Rae made it easier for Solo to hook his fingers in the elastic of her underwear, tugging whisper thin panties over her hips and down to her ankles. At a nudge of his shoulder, she stepped out of them.

This was madness. What was she doing, consenting to this behaviour?

Still on his knees behind her, he pushed her skirt higher until it was wrapped around her waist. She trembled as he stroked and kneaded pert buttocks. He slid one finger down the split of her bottom.

She jerked in his grasp and his hands tightened their hold, pinning her in place.

“Relax,” he whispered again.

“I can’t.”

It was the last coherent thought she had for several sticky minutes. He gripped her thighs and spread them, pressing his mouth to her quim from behind. He licked and devoured raw pink flesh, her secret portal turning hot and gooey all for him.

“Ben,” she squeaked, her knuckles white as she clutched the railing.

He grunted into her weeping sex, the vibrations making the hard little spiral of her clit ache. He was attentive. Thorough. Licking and swirling, thrusting and nibbling. His handsome face pressed unabashedly into the junction of her thighs.

She climaxed in a series of high pitched cries, unable to help the sounds her mouth made. Pleasure flooded her veins, turning her blood to molasses, sluggish and heavy. Her knees gave away and he held her up, laving her tender flesh like a little boy with a melting ice cream cone.

He teased a second orgasm from her throbbing core, sliding two fingers into her tight, clasping sheath as she cried out once more, riding a wave of ecstatic bliss. At last, he eased his hold on her body.

Rae slid onto the ground and into his arms, her breath coming in sobs.

“You were delicious, baby,” he said, his rich voice gentle. Seductive.

“What did you do?” she asked, taking comfort in the solidity of his embrace.

Solo chuckled. “Haven’t you had a man go down on you before?”

Her lashes fluttered close as she turned her face away from him.

His hold around her tightened. “No, you haven’t.”

Rae felt shame douse the lingering flames inside her trembling body. Oh, God. She didn’t want Solo to know the truth. No man had wanted her before this. Before him.

She grabbed the hem of her dress and tugged it down over hips and thighs, covering herself.

“Your records say you’re twenty.”

Rae snuck a glance at Solo. “You looked at my employee file?”

His big hand stroked her cheek, engulfing the whole side of her face. “Are you a virgin, little red?”

She bit her lip. “What business is it of yours?” Rae willed her legs to move but they’d turned to mush.

Solo had awakened her carnal side. Her orgasms, long delayed, were spectacular. Earth shattering. She wanted more, but that was dangerous thinking. Ben Solo was not hers to have or control. He was a rogue element determined to play havoc with her life.

“That’s a yes then,” he said calmly.

Solo reached for her again but Rae pulled away. He allowed her to scramble backwards on the floor, allowed her space. She knew this. His strength was overwhelming and he could have easily subdued her.

Worse still, she would have let him.

“I’m going home,” she told him. She wanted away from the party and the noise. Away from Solo.

He shook his head. “No.”

Rae stared at him. He stood up and lifted her to her feet as well, letting go as soon as he was sure she was steady.

“You’re coming back to my place.” He took her hand.

Solo’s chauffer was waiting out the back and he bundled her into the car. They remained silent in the time it took to return to First Order.

Rae watched Solo surreptitiously the whole drive. They were more alike than she’d realised. Both very smart, on guard, comfortable with ambiguity yet honest with themselves. Both surprised by the way their evening was unfolding.

The elevator ride to his penthouse apartment made her ears pop. When they finally arrived on his floor she relaxed. Rae was surprised by her body’s reaction to his home. She followed him into a big bedroom.

Everything in it was polished mahogany and leather, his bed a four poster with Egyptian cotton sheets. One wall was solid glass, revealing a stupendous view of Manhattan by night.

“I’ll raid Kaydel’s closet and find you something to sleep in,” Solo said. “Use my shower.”

Rae slipped off her dress and stepped into a black and gold bathroom. It smelled of his cologne, the shower stall still damp from when he’d last used it. The hot shower did her a world of good. She scrubbed off make up and perfume, soothing her buzzing body and mind.

Rae emerged wrapped in a fluffy burgundy towel as big as a sheet. There was something disturbingly intimate about being surrounded by Solo’s things. On his bed was a white tank top and stripey blue pyjama bottoms. Considerably less dramatic than her green dress.

Rae pulled them on, immune to how she looked. Her body was lithe, with firm breasts and rounded hips, a small waist, shapely legs. Her hair was thick and luxurious, a wealth of red silk. Her eyes the clear hazel of an autumnal forest. Her mouth was bruised from his kisses.

Damp skin made the tank top mould to high breasts. Her pyjama bottoms rode low on her hips, exposing an enticing expanse of skin and revealing her belly button.

“Are you decent?” Solo boomed from outside the room. He didn’t wait for her to answer, walking in and filling the space with his personality, handsome and debonair in his expensive suit.

Rae couldn’t help herself, the words tripping off her tongue. “Are you always so controlling, Mr Solo?”

“Ben,” he snapped, his gaze focused on the impression of her nipples against thin white cotton. “And what do you mean by that?”

She was lightheaded from hunger. “You can’t help yourself. You have to show off and dazzle everyone around you.”

Rae was naturally sensuous despite what she thought of herself. Unbeknownst to her, Solo was reacting to her pyjama clad form with a ragged hunger he hadn’t felt since puberty. The sight and sound of her, the scent of her provoked him.

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t see you eat at the party, so I brought you fruit.”

Rae sat down, pushing at the thick hair tumbling around her face. “You’re always taking care of me, Mr So… Ben. Thank you.”

A strange expression crossed his face, as if he’d never considered himself in such a way before.

She reached for his bedside table, trying not to blush as she recalled his words about strawberries. The sugary fruit cleared her head. Her tongue darted out to catch a drop of juice on her lower lip.

Solo watched her closely, a single sound escaping him.

Rae’s head went up, her expression curious. “Ben, is anything wrong?”

“Look at me, Rae,” he commanded gruffly.

“You’re in the shadows.”

“Then come closer.” There was an edgy feel to his voice, one that sent a shiver of awareness down her spine.

She leaned forward. It took a moment to make him out.

Solo slipped off his jacket, letting it fall onto the floor. His shoes, socks and belt followed. Rae swallowed as her boss undid the buttons of his shirt, plucking out diamond cuff links. She looked away when he unzipped his pants.

When she glanced up again, his powerful body was seated on an armchair. Entirely naked. Starkly aroused. He made no attempt to hide the pulsing staff thrusting upward from between his legs. He sat there, motionless, his brooding gaze on her, simply awaiting her decision.

Beneath the thin tank top her breasts ached tenderly. He stole her breath. Just looking at him, so hungry for her, robbed her of air. She felt gauche and childlike, and cast her mind about to do something.

She heard his swift intake of breath as she slowly caught the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head to bare her breasts for him. “I want you too, Ben,” she said, soft and sweet.

Some of the tension left his body but he remained across the room from her. Rae’s body tightened even more in anticipation.

Deliberately she leaned back on the bed and shimmied out of her pyjama bottoms, discarding them beside the bed in an unwanted little heap.

Solo stood up and walked over to her. He leaned in to kiss her again. “Thank you, baby.” The three words were said against her throat.

“For what?” Rae gasped.

“For giving yourself to me.”

And just like that, all her insecurities came rushing back. What was she doing? How could this be anything but a colossal mistake? This man would use her up and spit her out. She had no experience and he… he’d had three lovers in as many weeks.

Kaydel had called him prince charming, but that was wrong. He was the fiery dragon at the keep, ready to devour her whole.

He saw her hesitation. “Did I please you before?”

“You know you did.” So much so she couldn’t think straight.

“Then let go, Rae. You’re still holding on to things that don’t matter. You looked like an angel in that green dress, and you tasted like ripe cherries.””

He kissed her, fierce and intent, his tongue invading her mouth, rough yet somehow loving, and she felt a knot unravel deep inside of her. Rae leaned into him, parting her lips, sinking her fingers into his thick black hair. Her lips were tingling by the time their embrace ended.

His big hand skimmed her breasts, plucking at tight nipples, gliding over her waist and hips. He began to stroke the neat little slit between her legs, spreading tight petals with his callused fingertips. Her breath hitched and she felt the muscles there quiver, bathing his hand in fresh honey. It would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t looking at her as if… as if she were precious.

“So small,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Rae blushed. He was right, of course. Her body wasn’t equipped to handle his magnificent bulk.

“Maybe we shouldn’t…”

Solo glared at her, as fierce as any eagle. “You want me, little red, isn’t that right?” His finger plunged deep so that she gasped, her hips bucking against his hand. “Say it, Rae, say it’s only me you want.” Her wet muscles clenched around him, eager for purchase.

“Ben…” she whimpered.

Her hazel eyes went wide as he pushed two fingers deep, stretching her, wanting her tight body to accept his easily. “Say it, Rae.”

“I- I want you,” she gasped, nearly coming up off the bed. She might not live through wanting him.

He bent his head to her taut breasts, lapping at a nipple while he pushed his fingers deeper inside of her, closed his eyes as her body clamped down in response.

“Please, Ben,” she moaned. He was driving her out of her mind. “Please…”

His thumb found the swollen bud of her clit and circled it gently. She came with a soft wail, shameless in her desire for him.

His fingers slid out of her and he laughed softly. He smiled again, self-assured, no longer vulnerable. “Don’t move,” he whispered, his hands parting her thighs. He lowered his head.

His tongue replaced his fingers and a soft cry ripped its way out of her throat. Rae bucked and convulsed as she was thoroughly explored, her pink core licked and suckled, teased and tormented until she climaxed once more, calling out his name in desperation.

Ben wrapped his arms around her waist and turned her over onto her belly. He grasped her by the ankles, spreading wide her legs as he pressed the swollen head of his cock to her still pulsing entrance.

Rae heard a hoarse cry and realized it had come from herself. His body was invading her core, a thick, hard fullness that brought the sting of torn virginity and a fiery friction of intense pleasure. She could feel her body adjusting, accommodating his size. And then he began to move, and she was lost to everything but the bliss building and swelling within her.

He moved slowly at first, watching her for signs of discomfort. When she pushed her hips back to meet his, he began to lose himself, plunging into her, driving deeper. The little noises escaping her throat drove him wild. “Take all of me.” It was a plea, a demand. Her sex was like a silken cord wrapped tight around his manhood, strangling him with every pump and thrust.

Ben came with a sound that was more animal than man, emptying himself deep inside her womb. Rey felt her own pleasure peak and she came yet again, her limbs trembling with the intensity of her pleasure.

He collapsed forward like a falling tree, his hard muscled body atop hers, some of his weight on his hands so he didn’t completely flatten her into the mattress. They were locked together, their hearts hammering loudly, scents mingling, both so sensitive they were afraid to move.

Solo kissed the back of her head, her chin, a shoulder. “Are you all right, little red?” Reluctantly he rolled his weight off her.

“I’m fine, Ben,” she sighed. She didn’t think her body would ever belong to her again. “It’s hot in here.”

He laughed, deep in his throat. He sat up, reached past her and grabbed a cluster of grapes from the tray. His naked body was flexible, a miracle of movement.

He popped a piece of fruit in his mouth and the simple act took her breath away. He was so sexy just eating a grape. Who was she next to him? Maybe she just wanted him so much nothing else mattered.

Stupid little red riding hood. She’d run right into the arms of the big bad wolf.

What now? She’d never done this before. Did she reach for her clothes and call a cab to take her home? She had no idea the etiquette required to navigate oneself out of their boss’s bed.

He rolled toward her and hushed the voices in her head with a hungry kiss. She felt his sex, firm and thick, pressed up against her thigh.

“Already?” Rae objected, desire making her heart rate spike once more.

Solo’s answer was velvety dark. “We’re going to fuck until you can’t walk straight, little red.”

And that night Ben took very good care of her writhing, aching body, turning her over in his arms until she was a quivering, exhausted mess.

When sleep came it was deep and dreamless. Rae wished she could remain there for a thousand years.


	3. Beauty & the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is the Beast a beast when Beauty wants to remain in his prison?

Afterwards, Rae tried so hard to remain objective.

She told no one of her erotic encounter with Solo. Even throwing away the pyjamas he’d so enjoyed watching her remove. But of course, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot.

Rae was too smart not to acknowledge the truth. Solo was intelligent. He made her laugh. He had a restless, dominant, cat-like quality that could be mesmerizing. And she had seen something in Ben Solo’s face that no one was supposed to see. He was vulnerable. The tyrant had a chink in his armour, and that touched her.

Rae attempted to be analytical about it. Just because Solo’s business strategy was to be a jerk, it didn’t mean he was a jerk. That depended on how badly he’d been damaged. Besides which, everyone had damage. For some it was a chip on the shoulder, for others it was a soul destroying boulder.

Ben was a surprisingly discreet lover. Rae was booked into daily evening appointments with him. They met in his office, where she found herself divested of her clothes and spread out on his polished mahogany desk like a veritable buffet of fleshly delights.

Afterwards, they would talk. At least, she would push for conversation and he would respond at his own pace.

“Some consider me a monster,” he said one night as she snuggled on his lap while he remained seated in his leather chair.

Rae was completely nude, her crimson hair like a spill of wine down one shoulder. Ben was still dressed, his only evidence of their activities an unzipped fly.

“Are you?” she asked, content in his arms despite their disparity in clothing.

“I like to destroy my opponents.”

She laughed. “Me too, academically speaking.”

“But you’re nice to people. I can tell.”

“You can be nice. How do you treat the other women you sleep with?”

“Badly. After I get what I want, I avoid them. I like the seduction, getting women interested in me, and then I get my picture in the papers with someone else. I’m intentionally hurtful.”

“Could you break the habit?” Rae asked. Not adding, for me.

Solo close his eyes. “I shouldn’t be telling you this.”

“I don’t mind, Ben.”

He was silent for a while. “Don’t fall in love with me, little red. You may not have a job if you do.”

“Who says I’ll fall for you?” Rae teased, fearing she was being as transparent as glass.

“You already have,” Solo grunted. “Your mistake. There is no recorded instance of me being good to a woman for more than a month.”

“That’s because you’ve never been in love before.”

“You think I’m in love with you?” he asked, shocked.

Rae blushed. “No…”

“Just because I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else, it doesn’t mean anything. You shouldn’t even assume I’m telling the truth.”

“Terrible man,” Rae sighed, and she began kissing him.

Solo was a terrible man, she realised, one who was now seeing her regularly. The fact he was a big brute made their time together incredibly sexy. At every assignation her mind would whisper, I am here because a dangerous man cares for me.

So he kept booking their evening meetings, seeing her five days a week even though he said he’d never call.

Their liaison didn’t need to be secret, but the way Solo organised things it remained private. By the time she showed up at his office, his secretary had gone home and Rae’s own work day was complete. There were no witnesses or evidence of misbehaviour.

Rae didn’t mind so much. She had no girlfriends she wanted to confide in. No one to talk to. Perhaps caring about a woman wasn’t consistent with the image Solo wanted to project. Maybe when he dumped her he wanted it to be an isolated incident.

She was, after all, an employee. A living, breathing law suit.

She wouldn’t sue him, of course. To expose him would be to expose herself. Besides, she was very much there of her own volition. He told her no lies about himself or what was to come.

Solo turned out to be extremely well read. He and his sister were the products of an unhappy marriage and money had always been scarce in his childhood. He’d attended a decent college- not Ivy League, which intensified his hunger for social acceptance- but good enough to give him a first class education.

He’d worked extremely hard, studying politics and history as background for his law degree. Over his summer breaks, he consumed hundreds of famous novels and could talk about any one of them with considerable insight. She loved that about him.

He said that a successful businessman needed to be able to dissemble. He had to reveal his evidence of superiority, proof he had the higher ground in any deal, and yet manage to keep his underlying strategy to himself. Like a novelist, he suggested, writing a murder mystery. Or a hunter, baiting a trap.

Rae heard this and realised Ben was telling her not to trust him. She wondered if he was even aware he was doing it.

The day she realised she was in love was his birthday. Ben asked her to his office as usual. He didn’t mention the milestone, but her manager brought it up in passing at a staff meeting. Apparently there was a memo.

Rae stepped out during her lunch break to buy Ben a gift. But what do you get a man who already had everything?

She found the trinket in a hippy store run by a woman with steel grey dreadlocks. It was a glass heart the size of her palm, inflated like a balloon and completely clear. It came in a cheap powder blue box, nestled in strips of pale pink paper.

When the time came for her to see him she lost her nerve, leaving the gift in her bag. Instead she undid the buttons of her blouse and hiked up her skirt, straddling his hips and making passionate love until her muscles quivered.

The heart sat by her bedside, a tangible reminder she was in over her head.

A month went by. And then another. And another. Before long they’d been seeing each other for four months.

The sex was excellent but what Rae really craved was the man; Ben’s physical presence, his warmth, scent and magnetic personality. Other people seemed like grayscale after the multifaceted brilliance of his companionship.

And then came the day her electronic work diary remained free of appointments. She wasn’t booked to see him.

Rae felt her stomach flutter in panic. She battled nausea. It had finally happened. The beast had grown tired of his beauty, releasing her from his castle, uncaring that his prison had become her home.

A week went by with no sign of Ben. Rae couldn’t eat, she barely slept. He did not call or text. She scoured the newspapers, gossip mags and online media sites, trying to find a picture of him with his latest companion. She found nothing.

At last, on a chilly Tuesday evening, she summoned the courage to approach his lair. Rae told herself she had nothing to lose.

As she reached the door, it swung open. A raven haired beauty with sun kissed skin and fiery dark eyes exited Ben’s office. Her small, hard breasts and seductively swaying hips were on display in a tight black skirt suit. She bestowed a condescending smile on Rae and kept going.

Rae was grateful her stomach was empty, otherwise she may have thrown up.

She stepped into his office. Her heart ached when she saw him. Ben wore a midnight blue three-piece suit. His vest had engraved gold buttons, his shirt sunshine yellow with a pale blue pinstripe, his tie fat and red. He stood at his desk, pouring over a spreadsheet.

He looked up, a flicker of something indecipherable in stormy eyes when he saw her. Rae tried not to cringe. She should have worked harder to look good. She’d begun replacing her collection of shirts and grey work skirts that were a size too big with better tailored items, but her closet was still filled with boring mediocrity.

He had never made her feel lacking, though based on Ben’s current paramour she should have known she was not pretty enough for him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said coldly.

Now that she was in the lion’s den, Rae did not flinch. “Who was she?”

His answer came without hesitation. “A friend.”

“You don’t have friends.”

Solo raised an eyebrow, surprised by her temerity.

Rae couldn’t help herself, unshed tears making hazel eyes burn. “She doesn’t look like she needs lessons on how to please a man in bed.”

“Rae…” An expression of incongruous softness crossed Ben’s face, one that made her freeze.

Pity. Oh, God. She’d expected outright rejection, not this. The pain that burned in her chest was unprecedented, making her catch her breath. “You’re right, as always. I shouldn’t have come.”

Rae waited three seconds. And then three more. Ben did not say anything, did not offer consolation or apology. Certainly, he did not call her back.

She went home to the tiny studio apartment she kept scrupulously clean on the off chance her boss who’d been her lover might visit. He never had. Rae cried until her head was bursting and her eyes swollen twice their size.

She hated what he’d made her; weak and needy. She’d been happy in her dry, erudite world, free of fleshly pleasure and masculine attention. Like a china cup she’d shattered and would never be put back together again.

Rae tried to work. Tried to channel all her passion into her job. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t stay employed at First Order with its daily reminders of Solo. She must walk away.

She met with her manager and tendered her resignation, requesting he keep the matter private. She didn’t want farewell drinks or well wishes. Rae simply wanted to slip away, like she’d never existed. For a brief moment, New York and First Order had been for her a magical place, but she’d lost herself within its labyrinthine walls.

Rae decided to return to England. Her foster brother Finn had a guest bedroom for her to hide out in. And perhaps there her broken heart would mend.

It took a little effort, but Rae wrapped up her life in New York. She packed two bags and gave everything else away. She spoke to her landlord and broke her lease, paying her final month’s rent. She visited her favourite spots in the city, bidding them goodbye.

She had one last thing to do. Rae left the little box she hadn’t been brave enough to give Ben on his secretary’s desk.

She hated airports. There was always a stink of desperation in the air, the sour aftertaste of loneliness. The food was never any good, the people lethargic and restless.

She sat on a padded black chair, too distracted to do much more than watch the crowd. Parents with screaming kids, businessmen and women, groups of youths with their bag-packing paraphernalia.

A woman’s voice sounded over the speakers. “Miss Rae Jackson to the security desk please. Miss Rae Jackson to security.”

Rae tensed in her seat. That could not be good. Had she packed something suspicious in her suitcase? She couldn’t think what.

The security officer was a caramel skinned Latina who gazed at her as if she were an oddity, a reaction that did nothing to soothe Rae’s nerves. She was led down a corridor into a tiny, airless room. The walls had once been painted white, but they now appeared dishwater grey.

Rae attempted to ask a question, but the door was shut firmly and wordlessly in her face. There was a chair in the room, but she chose to pace the small space instead.

What had she done?

At last, the door opened and in walked Ben Solo.

Everything Rae had planned to ask vanished from her mind. Her throat closed up and she cast her eye about for a window to open, but there was none.

“You quit First Order,” he said, the timbre of his exceptional voice filling the tiny room. The words were an accusation.

“Yes,” Rae said abruptly. She owed him no explanation. Could he not guess the reason why she had to leave? “What are you doing here?”

He reached into his black suit jacket, topaz cuff links sparkling. Ben pulled out the little blue box and Rae felt her heart stop beating. She wished the ground would open so she could jump into the resulting hole.

“What is this?” he asked, flicking open the cardboard lid, revealing the clear glass heart.

“Nothing,” she mumbled, mortified. What had she been thinking, giving a billionaire a trinket that cost less than the dirt on the bottom of his shoes?

“Is this what you think of me?” he snarled, his anger genuine. “Do you think I’m hollow on the inside like this toy? Or is this a symbol of my treatment of you—that I’ve broken your delicate heart?”

Rae stared at him, shaking her head. “No,” she whispered, “that’s not…”

“Don’t you think I know how messed up I am? That I’ve denied myself the only real relationship in my life?” Ben was shouting, but Rae struggled to understand his words.

“It was a gift.”

“What?” he roared.

She burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. There was a short silence before he laid his palm on the back of her neck, familiar and awful all at once.

“Don’t touch me,” she said, wiping her eyes on the sleeves of her jacket.

He removed his hand but didn’t move away, standing so close she could feel the heat of his body through his suit.

“What did you say?” Ben asked more quietly.

“It- it was your birthday gift,” Rae told him, mortified.

“My birthday was a month ago,” he said, sounding so normal she wanted to hit him.

“I know that,” she snapped. “I didn’t give it to you because I was afraid of what you would think.”

“Then explain it to me.”

She snuck a glance at him, his hard, handsome face and deep, magnetic gaze. She should have known it would never work out. He was a king and she a poor serf.

Rae struggled to calm her voice, but she still sounded sad when she spoke. “I realised you were struggling with what I meant to you, that you didn’t want my friendship or love. Not really. I didn’t fit into your life or plans. I didn’t belong by your side. I thought if you knew I could see your heart was fragile, you’d understand I’d always look after it.”

The silence that followed lasted longer than before. “Rae…”

She didn’t want his compassion for a girl stupid enough to believe he could love her. “I’d like to go now,” she said stiffly.

“You’ve missed your flight,” he replied.

At this her head snapped up and she glared at him full in the face. “How dare you?” she gasped. “You threw me aside like yesterday’s newspaper and now you’re making it hard for me to move on. I didn’t realise you were this cruel, Ben.”

He gave her one of his unexpected smiles, making her take a shaky step backwards. “I intend to make it impossible for you to move on from me, little red,” he murmured. Ben closed the gap between them, wrapping big arms around her little body, picking her up so that his face was buried in the front of her jacket, pressed against her breasts.

“Stop it!” she cried out.

“No,” he said pleasantly. “I should have never let you go.”

Rae beat at his shoulders with ineffectual fists. “Didn’t you enjoy your new lover?” she spat, thinking of the stunning brunette.

He tilted his head back, letting her down to the floor but keeping firm hold of her waist. “Bazine works in marketing,” he informed Rae. “After you, I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice and date another employee.”

Rae flushed, thumping him one last time on his chest.

“There have been no other girls,” he continued, cupping her quivering chin, running his thumb over full lips. “I’ve been quite unable to stop thinking about you.”

He kissed her then, deep and well, lots of tongue and plenty of moisture. She was weeping again but quietly this time, without any of the pain that accompanied her previous tears. When he lifted his head, her eyes were dry once more.

“I don’t trust you,” Rae said bluntly, making him wince. “You hurt me very badly.”

The big man groaned, burying his face in her tousled red ponytail. “I know,” he muttered. “Let me make it up to you.”

She said nothing, her delicate face strained.

“I’m going outside,” he said, his voice sounding strange. “Keep an eye on your phone.”

“Why?” Her eyes were wide with trepidation.

He hated that his request made her so anxious. He’d betrayed her once and would have to spend the rest of their lives rebuilding trust. “I want to tell you something, but I can’t say it out loud. When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting in the corridor.”

She blinked and nodded.

Ben stepped outside, reaching for his phone once the door clicked shut again. He typed out the text message, took a deep breath and pressed send. And then he waited.

She was in there for quite a while which made him restless. He thought about the sentence he had written. It was a promise, really.

_Ben is your devoted knight and you will never be alone._

The door opened and she came to him. “Will you build us a castle to live in? I have never had a real home.” Her voice wobbled. “I’m sorry.” She wiped her eyes. “I wanted to stop crying before I came out, but I can’t seem to.”

He opened his arms and she flew into his embrace. This time, he would never let go.

Perhaps an awkward princess and a damaged prince could still have their happily-ever-after.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. All comments are welcome. To quote Dumbledore, kindness is a trait people never fail to undervalue.  
> I love fairy tales- love them in their original form, and adore them when someone is able to subvert the narrative. This was not a strict re-telling of the Cinderella story, but rather it contains elements of many different fairy tales. Have fun spotting them all!  
> Ben's character is shamelessly drawn from a novel by Daniel Silva. This author has written an outstanding series about Israeli spy Gabriel Allon and I cannot recommend the books more highly. Ben's character was originally written as a financial backer for the Mossad, and so outrageous was this fictitious figure that I wondered what he would be like if the story focused solely on him.


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